


Always Gonna Love You

by Blue_Night



Series: The Adventures of the Roman Legatus Marcus Retus and his Friends [3]
Category: Football RPF, Original Work, Real Person Fiction, Rome
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Ancient Germania, Ancient Rome, Explicit Sexual Content, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Making Up, Reunion Sex, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: Sequel toNever Gonna Give You Up, about one and a half years later.Julius Demarcus has been promoted to a centurion and is the commander of the camp Altiaia now. Will Malte forgive him that Julius left him without any other word and will they get the chance to find their happiness and live together one day?





	Always Gonna Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temsah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temsah/gifts).



> Dear temsah,
> 
> that you left a comment under the last chapter of NGGYU touched me deeply and meant so much to me. Knowing that Durmeus is not really your ship and that you read that story because of Draxlinter made your lovely words under the last chapter even more precious to me. I know that it wasn't really a conclusion, and I wanted to give you something back and give you and Julian and Matze the happy ending they more than deserve.  
> I really hope that you will like this story, it's actually the first time that I've written an exclusive Draxlinter story. Thank you for your kind words again, they've made me very happy. <33
> 
> Julian Draxler: Centurion Julius Demarcus
> 
> Matthias Ginter: Malte the Mattiacer
> 
> Altiaia: a camp for Roman auxiliaries built under Emperor Tiberius, the small German city Alzey  
> Cruciniacum: a camp for Roman auxiliaries built under Emperor Tiberius, the German city Bad Kreuznach

“There's a visitor for you, Centurion.”

Julius Demarcus' hand stilled midway between the bowl and his face, and he turned his head to look at the legionary standing on the threshold to his simple but comfortable quarters in the praetorium. Julius had just come home from a straining scouting expedition, being busied with washing away the dust from the long ride when his underling had knocked at the door.

“A visitor? Who is it?” Julius glanced over his shoulder, looking at the young legionary with a frown. He was tired and not in the mood to welcome an unexpected visitor in his private rooms, and he'd really hoped to have a calm and quiet evening with a light meal and without any disturbances that would shorten his already far too short nights once more.

The legionary made an apologetic gesture with his hand. “I don't know, I never saw him before, and he refused to tell us his name, Centurion. We were just about to send him away again when he gave me this amulet – saying that you'd know who he is.” The younger Roman lifted his hand to let his superior take a look at the piece of jewelry, and Julius stared at the small silvery amulet, his throat suddenly too tight to speak.

It had been one and a half years ago that he'd last seen it, back then when he'd gifted the amulet to the one his heart had belonged to – the one his heart would always belong to, no matter how long Julius would live and how much distance he would put between himself and the other man.

Julius had gotten the amulet from his mother when he'd joined Romes legions a long time ago. It had been one of the most precious things his family possessed, meant to protect the one wearing it from any harm. It was an amulet of God Mars, and Julius had worn it day and night from the day on his mother had hung it around his neck until he'd taken it off to pull the thin cord over his neck – the black leather still warm from Julius' body heat.

The dark-haired centurion stepped closer to take the cord and close his fingers around the amulet because seeing it in the hand of the legionary caused him physical pain in his chest. The latter waited motionless for his centurion to give him his next orders, and Julius schooled his features into an impassive mask with sheer willpower, his voice not betraying his inner turmoil when he glanced at his underling.

“Yes, I know him. Show him in and make sure that I won't be disturbed by anyone until I give you new orders.”

The legionary hesitated for a split second, obviously sensing that his superior was tired and not in the best mood, unsure what to do and whether or not he should leave the unknown newcomer alone with his admired centurion. Julius couldn't blame him, his visitor was not a Roman and times were still uncertain, but this special guest hadn't come to harm him. At least not physically – Julius' heart was a different kind of matter. But this was nothing his legionaries needed to know, and the young centurion frowned again when his underling didn't move.

“Was my order not loud enough for you to hear it properly, legionary?” he asked, impatience underlaying his terse question.

“Yes, it was. As you wish, Centurion. I shall bring him to you at once.”

Julius only nodded silently, turning back to the mirror to finish his task and remove the last traces of dust and dirt from his body. He buried his face in his towel when the door closed behind the guard, and Julius allowed his mask to slip for a short moment, his heart hammering hard and fast in his chest when a single word escaped his lips.

_“Malte...”_

 

***

 

“You're looking good, _Centurion_ Demarcus. Time has been friendly to you.” Malte strolled into the room as if it had been yesterday that they'd last seen each other instead of the horrible long one and a half years that had actually passed since their last night together. The Mattiacer's face gave nothing away of his thoughts, but Julius still knew him well enough to sense the younger man's tension and righteous anger.

Julius unconsciously straightened his shoulders to make up for the small bit of height difference between them, feeling strangely naked without his light armor when Malte let his eyes travel over his body before returning to his face again. He could feel the warmth of a deep blush heating up his cheeks while the rest of his face was pale, and the dark-haired centurion lifted his chin up in defiance.

“I could say the same of you, Malte the Mattiacer. You look as if you'd been doing very well since we last saw each other.” Julius held his ground when Malte crept closer with slightly narrowed eyes, not willing to backpedal and reveal his nervousness and vulnerability to the other man.

The blond Teuton stopped in front of him, his body heat seeping through the white linen of Julius' tunic. Malte's unique scent filled his nostrils, and Julius took only shallow breaths, fearing that his body would betray him if he inhaled too deep.

“I did, Roman,” Malte now said, standing far too close to the young centurion for Julius' fragile peace of mind. “But I would surely have done much better if you hadn't run away from me like a thief in the night!”

Julius swallowed desperately, clinging to the last shreds of his self-control and his dignity when he returned Malte's angry glare. The Mattiacer's face was like a marble statue, but Julius could see the hurt and betrayal in those beautiful blue depths that had always reminded Julius of the summer sky over his beloved City of Rome. Julius had dreamed of these blue eyes every night ever since he'd left Mogontiacum, telling himself again and again that Malte would do much better without a young Roman optio making goo-goo-eyes at him.

Malte was a prince of his tribe, the principal and head guard of Albin's warriors, supposed to marry a high-born beauty of the first families of the Mattiacers and ensue Albin one day. Julius on the other hand would never be more than a Roman centurion, coming from a good Roman family but not belonging to Rome's aristocracy like Marcus Retus and Marius Gordianus.

Prince Erik, Albin's son, had chosen to stay in Mogontiacum as a warranty for the peace treaty between Rome and the Mattiacers, being the link between the two so different cultures. Erik was the official emissary of his tribe, being his father's eyes, ears and voice in the Roman fortified camp, accompanying Marcus Retus on his diplomatic journeys to other Teuton tribes and Roman camps or cities in Germania. It was clear that he would never leave the young Roman legatus he loved more than anything, not willingly and freely at least. Albin had accepted his son's choice and not tried to change his mind – even though this had meant that he needed to choose another successor that was worthy enough to become the chief of the Mattiacers one day.

Malte was the son of Albin's cousin and therefore a prince like Erik, and Julius had thought it best to leave him before Malte would tell him to go. The mere thought of seeing the man he loved more than life itself with his wife on a regular basis, not allowed to touch and love him any longer, had made him feel like choking, his heart and soul screaming for something he could never have. Julius had been deeply grateful when Marcus had offered him to go back to Rome shortly after their return to Mogontiacum, sensing Julius' heartache and wanting to help him in the only way he could do that at this time more than a year ago.

Julius and Patricius had made sure that the renegades and their Roman principals would arrive in the capital without any chance to flee during the long journey, and the emperor had been so pleased with their services that he had promoted Julius to the rank of a centurion and offered him the vacant post in Altiaia. Patricius had gotten the command over the auxiliaries in Cruciniacum, and both of them had asked Marcus not to inform Malte and Jonas about their new posts in Germania – so close to Mogontiacum and the village where Malte and Jonas lived. Their adored commander had agreed to their request with a heavy heart, and Julius couldn't help but feeling betrayed now, because he'd really thought that Marcus Retus was a man of his word.

Malte could still read him with ease, because he smiled grimly at him when he noticed the emotions flickering over Julius' face. “Marcus Retus wasn't the one telling me where I'd find you, Centurion Demarcus. He wanted to, but he kept the stupid promise you'd forced him to make. And no, it wasn't Erik either – although I'm sure that he fought about this with Marcus more than once. But he would never betray Marcus' trust like that – or yours. No, I had to learn about your new post from a random merchant who trades with our village and Altiaia. Imagine my surprise when he mentioned the name of Altiaia's new commander on his last visit, Centurion!”

Malte sounded so bitter, and Julius cast his eyes down, too ashamed to face the tall Mattiacer. “I couldn't believe my ears, and so I went to Marcus and demanded to finally get the answers to my questions I had the right to know and which he'd refused to give me so far. He didn't want to break his promise, so Marius eventually took pity on me and told me that you had been promoted to a centurion by your Roman emperor and that you'd returned to Germania several months ago to succeed the former commander of Altiaia. What have I said or done to make you run away from me without any other word, Julius? Why didn't you let me know that you were back? I'd thought that you loved me as much as I love you! Was it only a game for you? The proud Roman testing the waters and seeing whether or not the stupid Teuton would fall for your charms? Can you even begin to imagine how hurt and betrayed I felt when I heard the news? That you had been back in Germania for months without letting me know?”

The tall Mattiacer stood so close, his still so familiar scent enclosing him like a soft bubble. Julius didn't know what to do, hating himself and feeling deeply ashamed because of his cowardice. There was a moment of silence between them, and the older one only reluctantly raised his head when warm and calloused fingers lifted his chin up to make Julius look at him. The love visible in Malte's blue eyes made his knees buckle, and Julius swallowed against the thick lump in his throat.

“I'm sorry, Malte, I'm so sorry. It was never a game! I'd just thought that you would do better without me. You're a prince and I was only a simple optio when I left you. I can never be more than a centurion, I could never give you what a Teuton princess could give you. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I couldn't stand the thought of having to watch you marry and...”

The words tumbled out of Julius' mouth, and he drew in a shaky breath, but Malte's hot lips silenced him effectively. “Stop talking Roman and put your mouth to better use! You can explain yourself to me later!” the younger warrior growled, laying all of his anger and long suppressed passion into his deep kiss when he claimed the Roman's mouth.

Julius clung helplessly to Malte's broad shoulders, surrendering to the onslaught of his lips and kissing the blond Mattiacer back with the same despair and longing. Malte's tongue seemed to be everywhere in his mouth, licking and probing and teasing him until his mind was spinning with raw desire. Malte's kiss was angry and fierce, burning Julius with its passion and desire, proving to the dark-haired Roman that his proud Teuton had missed him and craved for him not any less than Julius had longed for him in all those cold and lonely nights since Julius' departure - which had actually been more a flight. Julius dwelt in Malte's wonderful scent and his passion, forgetting his worries and doubts completely when the taller one pressed him close and his desire for Julius poked eagerly against Julius' thigh. He was already hard and aching himself, his painful longing for his Teuton leaving wet traces against the linen of his tunic.

“Where's your bedroom, centurion? Ah, over there, right? I expect you to make up with me thoroughly for all the hurt you've caused,Roman!” Malte demanded when the need for air forced them apart, and Julius didn't object when his lover lifted him up with surprising ease, throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him across the room in the direction of his bedchamber, still fearing that this wasn't really happening but just a wistful dream until the door closed behind them with a loud thud.

 

***

 

They had undressed each other on their way to Julius' bed, rough hands roaming over heated flesh and smooth skin, their lips tingling from their hard and desperate kisses. Julius thought that Malte would want to claim him this time when the blond pressed him onto the mattress and crawled on top of him, for once demanding his surrender because Julius still owed him so much.

But the younger man just turned them around until he lay on his back, pulling Julius on top of his broad and strong body without any other word. His clear blue eyes were almost black with his forceful desire for his Roman, his hooded gaze a wordless invitation for Julius to take what Malte was offering him so willingly.

The dark-haired Roman fumbled for the small vial with the oil he used for the leather of his armor, bending down to kiss the other man when he pushed his hand between Malte's strong-muscled thighs. They were both too impatient to waste their time with a real foreplay, craving to feel each other as close as two beings could only be after the long wait.

Malte's hands dug into his back the entire time while Julius prepared him hastily, their tongues dueling for dominance in a passionate battle until Julius' mind was spinning again, his thoughts clouded with lust and his heart hammering in his chest as if he'd run at least ten miles.

The fierce warrior trapped beneath Julius' naked body was trembling with desire when the young centurion pulled his fingers out, locking eyes with him when Julius pushed into him with his throbbing manhood, slick with both oil and precome.

Malte's harsh intake of breath was the only sound in the cool air of the bedroom when Julius breached the tight rim for the first time after their long separation. The dark-haired Roman stilled his hips, but Malte growled, pressing his fingers into Julius' backside to pull him closer. Julius pushed all the way in with a strangled groan, the sensation of hot silken walls clenching tightly around him after such a long time too much for him to bear.

The young Roman fought hard against his overwhelming emotions, but it was a fight he simply couldn't win. Julius exploded almost on the spot, filling Malte's tight channel with his release in desperate spurts when he was finally buried to the hilt inside his love. It was already over before the dark-haired centurion could really process what was happening to him, and he slumped down on his Teuton with another groan, hiding his burning face in the warm crook between Malte's shoulder and neck.

“'m sorry, I didn't mean to... I tried to hold back, but...” Julius' cheeks were burning with the heat of his shame and embarrassment, but Malte's tender voice soothed him. “Hush, it's fine, Jules, shshshsh, it's alright, don't be sorry...”

The younger man wrapped his legs around Julius' narrow hips to keep him in place, carding his fingers through Julius' dark hair in gentle strokes. Julius relaxed gratefully, but he wasn't ready to face Malte after having lost control like that.

“Love you, Jules, love you so. Will you please look at me?” The anger was gone from Malte's voice, tenderness and love making it raw and husky. Julius reluctantly lifted his head from his shoulder to peer at him from under his thick lashes, and Malte's smile took his breath away and assured him that he needn't to be afraid that the younger one was angry with him or laughing at him.

“Love you too, Malte! I'm so sorry I messed this up – our first time together after such a horrible long time...” Julius tried to hide his face again, but the blond Mattiacer didn't let him, cupping his hot cheeks with his big and yet so gentle hands.

“It's actually a compliment that you couldn't hold back, Centurion,” he said with mischief sparkling in his beautiful eyes. “I'm sure that you will be good to go again in no time. Besides, I've learned to be patient over the last year.”

Julius dropped his gaze. “I'm sorry for having run away, love. I couldn't stand the thought of you marrying a beautiful Teuton princess, having children with her. I wanted to leave before you'd send me away...”

Malte shook his head with a sigh, unfazed by the fact that Julius was lying on top of him, still buried deep inside him, his cock already hardening again. The blond Mattiacer hadn't come together with him, his unfulfilled desire throbbing against Julius' sweaty abs, but he didn't try to move or make Julius take care of him with his hand, Malte's only concern being Julius' comfort.

“You stupid and stubborn, proud Roman. How could you even think that I would send you away for a wife?” he asked, sounding hurt but more surprised than really angry. Julius wrapped his arms around him, pushing his face back into its hiding place on Malte's warm shoulder.

“You became Albin's heir when Erik decided to stay with Marcus. You need to have children – your own heir...”

“Erik is still Albin's heir. I'm sure that he and Marcus will find a solution for this problem. Apart from that, what makes you think that I can't have children when I'm together with you? I thought that the concept of adoption is well-known among Romans.”

Julius lifted his head from Malte's shoulder so fast that he felt dizzy for a moment. “Adoption?” he asked, and Malte nodded, stroking his cheek. “But...” Julius opened and closed his mouth several times, too stunned to find the right words to this turnout.

“You would do that for me? Refusing to take a wife and have children on your own? You would really do that for a simple Roman centurion?”

Malte narrowed his eyes. “You're definitely not a 'simple Roman centurion', Julius. And yes, I would do that for you. I love you, Jules - I will always love you. It broke my heart when you left me in the middle of the night when I was still sleeping – without giving me any chance to make you stay. Be sure that I won't let you run away from me again this time. I will make you stay – and if I have to tie you up for that!”

A heavy shiver ran down on Julius' spine at the thought of being tied and at Malte's complete mercy, and the younger man chuckled, moving his hips against him. “See, I was right, you're already up for a second round,” he grinned, and Julius scowled down at him, but Malte only pulled at his head to kiss him again.

“I love you too, Malte. More than anything. I will never love anybody else the way I love you.” Julius breathed against his lips when they parted again, and Malte pulled him close, urging him to finally move and satisfy the need burning inside him.

“Then show me how much you love me, Centurion. Fuck me and make me scream your name, Roman!”

He didn't need to say that twice because the dark-haired Roman was more than eager to prove his love and desire to his beloved Teuton. Julius' hips started to move of their own will, thrusting into Malte's tight heat over and over again, both men gasping with the sensations coursing through them. They kissed each other messy and wet with tongues and teeth, their gasps and groans competing with the rhythmical creaking of the bed.

Julius was so hard again, Malte's silken walls massaging his aching shaft in the most pleasurable way as they chased their release. The young Roman snaked his hand between their connected sweat-slick bodies, wrapping his fingers around the impressive manhood of his lover, drawing incoherent sounds of pleasure from the fierce warrior.

Malte squeezed his eyes shut, his face suffused and contorted with lust and ecstasy, and Julius thought that could happily spend the rest of his life with watching the blond falling apart beneath him, the incredible sight of his proud Teuton coming for him making him feel humbled and blessed.

Malte opened his mouth to a soundless cry when he lost himself in the throes of passion, his lips forming a wordless 'o' of ecstasy. He arched his back into Julius' next powerful thrust, his nails leaving red marks on Julius' back as they scratched over his skin, Malte's entire body jerking and shuddering violently with the force of his release. Malte's walls clenched around his throbbing and aching cock with every new wave of ecstasy, but Julius gritted his teeth, wanting to savor his love's pleasure to the fullest before he came himself.

Warm wetness spilled over Julius' fingers, coating their abs with Malte's pleasure and ecstasy in fast jets. The young centurion drank in the wonderful sight of his lover giving himself to him without holding anything back, grateful that Malte was self-confident enough to let him be on top without feeling ashamed or less of a man.

Julius pushed the thought aside to focus on Malte's pleasure instead, stroking him through his height until the blond Mattiacer relaxed underneath him with a happy sigh. “Love you, Malte.” Julius' throat was tight with love and emotion, and the younger man's lips curled into a soft smile. “Love you too, Jules. Come for me, come for me again, my beautiful Roman.”

Malte's tender order pushed Julius over the edge for a second time, and he came with Malte's name on his lips, shuddering and shivering in time to the jets he pumped into Malte's quivering passage. His climax was painful in its intensity, even though he'd already come less than half an hour ago, and he pressed his lover close and searched for his lips again, his hunger for Malte's touch coming from the deepest parts of his soul.

They lay there for a while without moving when it was finally over, breathing softly into each other's ears.

“Thank you for coming to me, love. Thank you for not giving up on me,” Julius whispered, and Malte kissed him on his cheek with a smile. “I will never give up on you, Jules. I'm always gonna love you. I had a long talk with Marcus before I left Mogontiacum. He told me about your worries, and I shall greet you from him.”

Julius felt a lump in his throat. He missed his friends, and he regretted that his duties as Altiaia's commander and his fear to run into Malte by accident had kept him away from Mogontiacum for so long.

“Please thank him for his greetings when you return to Mogontiacum,” Julius said, swallowing hard at the prospect of having to say goodbye to the man he loved again.

Malte turned around until they lay on their sides, stroking Julius' hair. “I will come back to you, Jules. Our village has become too small for all of us, and Marcus offered Albin a parcel of land not far away from here. I will move here with a third of our tribe in a couple of weeks. The council promoted me to the chief of the new village, and Marcus asked me to become an emissary like Erik is, offering you our help and support when you have to negotiate with the other Teuton villages here in this region.”

Julius stared at him for a moment, fearing that this was only a blissful dream, but Malte's lips on his own were real, and his hands stroking his back were too warm and firm to be only an imagination.

“So we can really be together, love? We don't have to part again?” he asked, his heart beating fast in his chest with all the love he felt for his wonderful Teuton.

“Yes, Jules. My life is incomplete without you by my side, my stubborn Roman, and I'm very much looking forward to teaching you your place in the future.” Malte winked at him with his eye, and a wide smile spread out on Julius' handsome features. “We'll see who of us will be the one teaching the other one here, Teuton!” he growled, but the happy chuckle bubbling out of his throat betrayed his happiness.

Malte joined him in his laughter, starting to tickle him, and the two young men wrestled playfully for a while until their longing and passion for each other brought them together again.

“Love you, Jules, please don't you ever run away from me again,” Malte whispered when he welcomed his Roman in his arms for a second time in this special night, and the young centurion pulled him close and kissed him with all the love he felt for him. A bright future was waiting for them, and Julius knew that he had finally found his home here in Germania and Malte's loving arms, the place where he truly belonged and where he wanted to stay for the rest of his life.

“I will never leave you again, Malte, I promise you. I'm always gonna love you, now and forever,” he promised him, a promise that would never be broken as long as Julius and Malte lived.


End file.
